


Lion Blood

by redcandle17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Abortion, Canon-Typical Violence, Childbirth, F/M, Illicit Relationship, Menstrual Sex, Murder, Sibling Incest, Twincest, dark!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 02:37:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20734874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: Cersei bleeds and sheds Lannister blood.





	Lion Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [copacet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/copacet/gifts).

When Cersei flowered and bled for the first time, she told her twin before telling her maids or Aunt Genna. "I'm a woman now," she told him proudly.

Jaime wanted to know how it felt, and Cersei had to admit that her belly hurt and there was nothing flowery about the blood dripping from her cunt.

He wanted to see, too, so Cersei perched on the edge of her bed and pulled up her skirts and let him slide her bloody small-clothes down her legs.

"It looks like blood, but it doesn't smell like blood," Jaime said doubtfully, kneeling before her. He touched her cunt and then stuck his bloody finger into his mouth. "It doesn't taste like blood either."

Cersei was disgusted that he would taste it, but then again, it was her blood. She decided she liked the idea of her twin consuming her womanly blood. "Drink it," she urged him.

Jaime stuck his face even closer to her cunt and began licking her there.

It felt good. It felt very, very good. Cersei moaned in surprise.

Jaime kept licking and licking, and when there was no blood left on the outside of her cunt, he shoved his tongue into her and licked her from the inside.

Cersei had never known that anything could feel this good. She cried out wordlessly as darkness then stars filled her vision.

"Cersei?" Jaime sounded concerned.

Cersei didn't think she could move, but she had no desire to move anyway. She felt wonderful. The only thing that could make it better was cuddling with Jaime. "Come lie next to me."

Her twin obliged her, as he always did.

~

Cersei had not bled when she'd given her twin her maidenhood years ago. And it was no longer the fashion to display a bloody bed sheet the morning after a wedding. But she knew servants and courtiers alike gossiped. They would expect the king's bride to bleed, and if she did not, the gossip would not be kind to her. 

She needed blood. It could not be her own, of course. She refused to mar her skin with cuts, especially not when her naked body would soon be exposed to the wedding guests. She could not ask any servant or friend, either, lest she roused suspicion. There was only one person she could trust. 

Cersei mustered her sweetest smile and went to Ser Barristan Selmy, who was standing guard outside her temporary quarters in the Maidenvault. "Please, ser, would you switch posts with Ser Jaime? I am in need of my brother's comfort."

Jaime arrived quickly, and he pulled her into his arms before the door of her bed chamber had even closed behind them. 

Cersei turned her face aside when he tried to kiss her. "I need your blood."

"What for?"

"For the bridal sheets."

Jaime looked furious at this reminder that tonight - and for the rest of their lives - Robert Baratheon would be fucking her. "Cersei..."

"No," she interrupted sharply. "I'll not listen to any more of your foolish talk of running away to Essos. It is Father's will that I be Robert's queen, and it is my will, too, to be Queen."

Her twin’s shoulders slumped as he silently conceded defeat. 

Cersei drew away from him and slowly opened her thick velvet robe. Beneath it she was as naked as the day they were born. "After tonight you will share me with Robert."

Jaime reached for her, but she held up her hand to stop him.

"We cannot risk you leaving any love marks on me. Lie upon the bed and do not put your hands on my body."

Jaime laid back as she'd bid him, and Cersei straddled him and took his cock into her cunt. She rode him slowly and steadily, no matter how his hips bucked wildly and how he begged her to go faster. 

When her climax washed over her and her cunt clenched him tight, her twin cried her name and gave her his seed. 

Their lovemaking would be treason after this noon's wedding ceremony. The thought did not frighten Cersei. They were not Targaryens; the realm saw them only as sister-and-brother and no one would ever imagine that they were lovers.

Jaime drew his dagger, but Cersei stopped him before he could cut himself.

"Let me," she said.

She sliced a shallow cut on his chest, above his heart, and filled a tiny glass vial with his blood. "Put this vial under the pillows during the bedding."

She knew the vial of blood would be there under the pillows in the bridal bed chamber tonight. Her twin would not let her down.

~

The midwives told her it wasn’t uncommon for women to cry out for their own mothers while they labored to give birth to a child. The Grand Maester told her she was doing a service for the realm and her pain would be rewarded when she was mother of a king. Her ladies told her King Robert would love her even more after she'd delivered him a healthy babe. 

Cersei almost laughed at that. Robert loved her not. He didn't love any of the women who had birthed him bastards either. The only woman Robert loved was his dead wolf-bitch Lyanna Stark.

Not that Cersei loved him in the slightest. He wasn't half the man Rhaegar Targaryen had been. Besides, he wasn't the father of her babe. Her babe would be a prince of the realm but a lion through and through.

Cersei certainly didn’t want Robert here. And she scarcely remembered her long-dead lady mother. She wanted her twin. A pain worse than any she’d ever felt before gripped her and the queen had to scream.

"JAIME!”

He was there almost immediately, bursting through the doors of her bed chamber and rushing to clasp her hands.

Cersei squeezed his hands as another great wave of pain washed over her.

"Ser, this is no place for a man," some fool tried to tell her twin.

"You can't be in here,” another idiot protested. 

Her Jaime turned to them with a sharp smile. Kingslayer, they called him, and he used that against them. He’d killed a king, so what else mightn’t he do. "Who's going to stop me?"

No one. No one stopped him. He climbed onto the bed and embraced her, and the birth seemed to go faster then, until at last Cersei delivered their babe. 

“A healthy boy,” Grand Maester Pycelle announced.

A midwife laid the infant in her arms, and Cersei cried happy tears. Her son was perfect and beautiful. Her golden prince. 

They tried to take him away from her, they said they needed to weigh and measure him and she needed to concentrate on the afterbirth. 

Cersei refused to give up her precious babe, so they tried to wrest him from her arms.

“Leave my sister be,” Jaime warned, and they fell silent and still.

There was another wave of pain and a gush of blood, but the queen hardly noticed. With her babe in her arms and Jaime’s arms around her, everything was perfect.

~

The inn was filthy and dimly lit. It was the last place anyone would ever expect to find the queen, which made it the perfect place for her to conduct this bloody business. Cersei caressed her flat belly as she waited for Jaime to return. It was much too early for any movement, but Cersei fancied she could feel Robert's babe quake in fear.

Her kingly husband had half a dozen bastards, but the babe within her belly was his only trueborn issue - and it would never draw a breath. Robert's bloodline would end with him. The next kings to sit the Iron Throne would be of Cersei's blood and hers alone.

Jaime returned just as her patience had reached its limit. He hadn’t failed her. She’d told him to fetch her an herb-woman and he had. 

The woods-witch brewed her a cup of tea that smelled almost as foul as she did, but Cersei accepted the cup with a smile and drank the brew in one big gulp. Such a simple act to kill a prince.

Jaime started to pay the old woman with a gold dragon, but Cersei stopped him.

"A silver stag," she insisted, and so the herb-woman left with a silver coin bearing the stag of House Baratheon on one side and Robert's visage on the other. 

The witch's potion made her belly cramp and made her bleed, but her twin was there to hold her and soothe her, and she knew he would always be there.

~

There had been no word from Jaime for months. Cersei had known he wasn't dead. There was no way he could die without her feeling it and knowing it. She'd assumed he was being held captive by some outlaw or traitorous lord. But now here he was, striding towards the Iron Throne, looking no worse than he had when she'd last seen him. 

"Cersei, you have to leave."

One of its blades pricked her as she grasped the sides of the throne. "Never," she swore. "I am Queen and I will not leave my throne."

"Daenerys Stormborn is coming for that ugly chair. Leave it to her, and come with me. I'll find you safe passage to a comfortable exile."

Exile? Cersei stared at him in disbelief. He was her twin, her other half. He should know her better than to think she would ever abandon her throne. 

"Cersei, she’ll feed you to her dragon as Aegon II did to Rhaenyra."

"Then I will die Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

"You don't mean that."

"I do," she insisted.

There was a long silence, then Jaime sighed. "So be it."

Cersei watched as he turned and began to walk away. "Where are you going?"

He kept walking as he answered, "Away from here.”

He could not mean to leave her. "Jaime, come back here. We can be wed. We'll rule together as queen and king for our remaining days."

He let out a bitter laugh and glanced back at her. "I'm not the fool I once was, sweet sister."

They had come into this world together. It was only right that they should leave it together. 

Cersei descended the steps of the Iron Throne and strode towards Jaime. She caressed his face with one hand, staring into green eyes identical to her own, and with her other hand she drew his gilded dagger and plunged it into his belly. 

His eyes widened in shock. Then his hands clasped her throat - his flesh-and-blood hand warm, his gold hand cold - and he began to squeeze.


End file.
